When Ray Liotta unexpectedly passed away on May 26 from undisclosed causes on the Dominican Republic set of Dangerous Waters<\/em>, tributes poured in from film writers, many lauding his turn as Henry Hill in Goodfellas <\/em>as the best of his illustrious career.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The choice is understandable. The Martin Scorsese classic is generally considered the best film <\/em>that Liotta was in, but that doesn\u2019t automatically mean that it was also his best performance. Since 2002, that honor has rested with Joe Carnahan\u2019s Narc<\/em>, a relentless detective thriller that takes advantage of the enhanced dramatic skills Liotta attained in the interim.<\/p>\n\n\n\n To properly appreciate Liotta in Narc<\/em>, one must take stock of his journey as an actor up to that point. After star-making gigs in Jonathan Demme\u2019s Something Wild<\/em> and as Shoeless Joe Jackson in Field of Dreams<\/em>, Liotta took on his most challenging part thus far in Goodfellas<\/em>. <\/em>Second-billed behind Robert De Niro and in front of an Oscar-winning Joe Pesci, Liotta excels as everyman mobster Henry, the saner, more relatable counterpart to his more fiery and volatile co-stars.<\/p>\n\n\n\n But in Narc<\/em>, it\u2019s the now-veteran Liotta who\u2019s in the showier role, penned by a William Friedkin disciple with a fondness for The French Connection <\/em>anti-hero Popeye Doyle. As another Henry \u2014 volatile Detroit detective Oak \u2014 Liotta\u2019s character towers over the film even before he steps onscreen. Discussed by his colleagues with a mix of reverence and fear, Oak makes good on his unstable reputation in a flashback introduction, sporting a gash on his neck and smashing the hulking perp who gave him the wound with a billiard ball in a sock.<\/p>\n\n\n\n If that\u2019s not enough to convince viewers of his visceral nature, Oak\u2019s intense presence is solidified as he gets to know his partner, Nick Tellis (Jason Patric), a fellow department misfit thrown into a last-gasp effort to figure out what happened to Oak\u2019s friend Michael Calvess (Alan Van Sprang) \u2014 who, like Tellis, was an undercover narcotics officer. With Patric in the Henry Hill audience surrogate role, Liotta is free to take risks and explore the crooked (?) cop\u2019s inscrutable layers that make Oak so fascinating to behold.<\/p>\n\n\n\n With his close-cropped haircut and gray-tinged, wolf-like goatee, Oak is an aerodynamic figure, able to maneuver from the office to the streets with ease, despite looming like a mobile mountain of muscle. That dynamic imagery and Carnahan\u2019s agile yet hard-nosed storytelling keeps the film\u2019s focus on Oak, even while Tellis technically calls the shots as the duo investigate Calvess\u2019 death. But as the grizzled elder statesman, Liotta\u2019s magnetism unquestionably posits Oak as the team leader, and it\u2019s thrilling to witness him blast into suspects\u2019 home, wielding a shotgun like it\u2019s a third appendage and behaving as if locked doors are sheets of rice paper.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The role\u2019s physicality suits Liotta, yet even when he’s shouting at a colleague or suspect, his performance somehow remains subdued, suggesting he has higher gears to shift to if necessary. Dulled slightly by age and probably booze and cigarettes, his altered vocal timbre makes him compellingly difficult to read, and channeling the line-crossing cop tradition set forth by Orson Welles\u2019 Hank Quinlan in Touch of Evil<\/em> and Russell Crowe\u2019s Bud White in L.A. Confidential<\/em>, Liotta\u2019s Oak is a walking moral conundrum, on whose every word and action invested viewers hang.<\/p>\n\n\n\n In addition to his palpable commitment to the role, Liotta\u2019s turn in Narc <\/em>is fortified by multiple extra-textual factors. Not only did Carnahan prioritize Liotta playing Oak, but the actor gained weight, grew the aforementioned facial hair (which he\u2019d never done for a part), and further aged up via eye makeup. Also contributing to this all-in devotion is Liotta\u2019s role as producer alongside his wife, Michelle Grace, who so wholly believed in the project that they were willing to work overtime to acquire funding and ensure that the independent production would be completed. Liotta also deferred his payment until after filming had wrapped so that the crew could be compensated and continue to work.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Such investment is evident throughout his multifaceted performance, from small moments like Oak opening up to Tellis on a surveillance job about his deceased wife to major turning points, including the gloriously long sustained interrogation of two suspects at a chop shop. The climax\u2019s cat-and-mouse mind games that manifest in various permutations between colleagues and criminals construct a phenomenally rich atmosphere in which anything seems possible. And while revelations are doled out by unsuspecting parties, Oak\u2019s reactions take center stage as audience members breathlessly await the outcome.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Though Liotta may very well have been capable of comparable electricity in 1990, that dynamism was reserved for his more experienced co-stars. But a dozen years later, he found himself in that central position, and with a combination of complete filmmaker confidence and a personal\/financial stake in the final product, Liotta put all of his cinematic gifts together, and crafted the definitive role of his career. “Narc” is currently streaming on Showtime<\/a> and available for digital rental or purchase. <\/a><\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/crookedmarquee.com\/stage8\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/07\/narc2-1024x678.jpg\")
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